Thus Spoke The Barn Owl

i go for my walks in september,
nodding at those i encounter- as to affirm 
my own existence if not theirs

and in due time the blackberry bushes, the unidentified birds,
the autumn coloured airfarers let loose from the trees
and even a stray doe
they all ask the same of me and i am glad 
to present it

a great sky king sweeps up on the wind,
it takes my heart for to spread it out
over the fields- nourishment for most but poison for some

i go for my walks in september,
how many steps in six thousand meters?
each one more surefooted than the last
for such is the nature of life

my saturday night reluctance
to go somewhere to be something
that colour looks good on you 
your pants are too tight
but your face looks real pretty in that light
on saturday night

and loud music to drown out 
the individual the voice
with alcohol to drown out the soul
the whole heart
plunge it unto some girl’s plate 
and watch her eat it and get hot
do drugs and what not
only to come home eventually

whatever she says because 
we are young and life doesn’t last that long
it grows shorter with every breath
many lonely days and then lonely death
and in a way she’s right and
she was quite a pretty sight
but i’d rather stay home 
this saturday night

you check in your luggage 
one extra piece
your suitcase is heavy
and you pay for it
i wonder if the doe eyed woman
behind the counter sees the luggage
outside of your suitcase
hovering above your head

sweet memories
silent seeds of sacrifice
they sprout their vines unstoppable
by mountains or salt water

it’s good to know that
if i ever gather heart enough to follow them
i’ll end up in canada 
where i hope you’ll be

with arms open
the rockies looming
bears breathing heavy
wolves circling loveland
stars like eyes like souls
if i ever gather heart enough
when the time is right 

i’ll say hi to the doe eyed lady 
behind the counter
and i’ll travel light 

what now, feeling better than i should, doing less than i would do if i were to do all i could

what now i have red wine dripping down my chin and i care less than if it would be running down your chin, your autumn neck into your shirt

what now i am lonely and disconnected and though i feel better than i should i hoped it would be different in a way that i would be talking less about me and more about you and what we are going to do when the first rush quiets down and we’re stuck in long distance town and we have no heart for leaving because the sunset is so bloody and magnificent but we hear the night train coming

what now a caravan of naked travelers passes through the street i see through my window but i don’t live on that street, i live down on selfish street where prostitutes do charity work and i can hear a voice coming from the west but it’s getting weaker and it’s salty so i close my mouth for not to taste it, close my eyes for not dry them

what now time passes and going up and down dim light alleys, looking for something, finding it and then cast it in dark corner for it is different than you remember

what now you’re in a place, all the dark corners stacked with stuff that was different than you remembered it at the time, when you found it

what now one morning you crawl to the corner and curl up, you’re just so different than you remember

what now

oh that deep instinctual animal happiness
faced by superficial greedy sorrow
who knows who wins tomorrow
it is brought to me in brightness

that when eyes, more than two are wide
there will be no way to get out
no covering ears against the answer loud
like the many passed on souls
that by the light abide  

he hates the way his feet sink in the sand
but he loves the shapes that he leaves
it’s like an artist who hates working
but loves to see his finished work

and he hates the pale dead moon at night
but he loves the way it makes the sea move
it’s like how i can’t stand the cleaning lady
but i couldn’t bear sleeping in the dust

even the tiny may walk across europe
their short legs no less determined
than my long ones which may carry me fast
but which keep me free from absorbing

observing all there is too see in europe
my eyes cruelly outpaced ungracefully
as the tiny steadily grow weary but find hope
in the waking of the day in the land